The hallway swayed just a little under her feet. {{user}} pressed her palm to the wall for balance, biting back a laugh at herself as she fumbled with the motel room key. The dull thump of music still echoed in her head—half from the concert, half from the afterparty she’d somehow found herself in.

When she finally pushed the door open, the room was dim except for the amber glow of the bedside lamp. Penny Lane’s bed was empty, the sheets a mess, her coat gone. {{user}} didn’t need to guess—Penny was with Russell, as always. The other bed, once claimed by the girl who’d been trailing them all tour, was perfectly still. She’d vanished hours ago, leaving behind only a faint trail of cheap perfume.

But William was there.

He was sitting up in bed, the remnants of his notes scattered across the blanket. He looked up when she stumbled inside, his expression shifting from focused to concerned in an instant.

“You okay?” he asked gently, closing his notebook.

“I’m fine,” {{user}} replied, though the word came out more like a sigh than an answer. She dropped her bag on the floor, swaying slightly as she tugged off her jacket. “Maybe… a little drunk.”

He chuckled softly—just enough to break the tension—then stood to take her coat before she could drop it. “Yeah, I figured.”